


memento

by Radio Rascal (Vagrants)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, I'm in rarepair hell, M/M, Mech Preg, References to birth but nothing graphic, Secret Children, Transformer Sparklings, mentions of Blurr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 09:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrants/pseuds/Radio%20Rascal
Summary: Shockwave has Megatron's sparkling while on Cybertron, and as far as he knows, he's the little one's only surviving parent. There's nothing he can do about that, but at least he has a memento for the future.





	memento

**Author's Note:**

> i had this idea but originally wasn't going to write it, but it KEPT bugging me. the world needs more MegaShock anyway.

Shockwave awoke in his home, on his berth, and the first thing he saw was his daughter. She lay on his chest, illuminated by moonlight coming in from the big windows, asleep and holding one of his claws. He stroked her back with another digit, her protoform still damp and textured like silicon. She was hot to the touch and he could feel her spark beat in its undeveloped chamber. It cast a faint glow on the underside of her skin.

As far as he could tell, she was healthy. The birth went as well as a birth could, and considering he did it alone, he had no complaints. He was still bleeding but his system was taking care of it. She was fine and that was what mattered most.

Blurr would be disappointed with him and lecture him about safety, disregarding rank and respect. For some reason he wanted to help. Shockwave would have glitched at the suggestion even if he didn't have to hide the sparkling's heritage.

He hadn’t seen her optics yet, but knew they would be bright red. There was no other option. There was a slim chance that some of his disguise coding could have slipped into her, which was something he worried about, but it was minor on the list of things that could have gone wrong and not likely.

Either way he could electronically change her optics, but the first moments after her birth were vulnerable. If Blurr were here he might have seen Decepticon features. Shockwave wanted to give birth in his natural body, anyway; she was affected by his mass shifting so it wasn’t less painful, but he wanted to ensure she was the correct size in case she couldn’t shift herself. He’d considered her safety closely, it just wouldn’t seem that way to his Autobot coworkers.

Passing out was a genuine bad start to his parenting career, though. Immediately after delivering her, Shockwave had pulled her onto his chest, a feat he remembered feverishly as he was already half gone. She was quiet, so he must not have been out for long, or else she would have started crying for fuel.

When he passed out, the hard crash to his system messed up some things. He had no idea what time or day it was, just that it was night and he’d been unconscious for no more than maybe an hour. He was leaning obliquely against the wall and straightened himself.

“I can’t move,” he muttered, his legs like leaden weights extending from his sore, abused hips. He’d had the foresight to leave energon cubes, a full bottle, and a first aid kit on the nightstand, so he didn’t have to move, at least.

When he saw the fuel he realized he was ravenous, and had poured three quarters of a cube in his intake before he remembered she needed fed as well.

Logically he knew how to feed a sparkling. He’d seen it done. When he looked at her, however, his processor blanked. If he moved too hard she would break. If he tried to reposition her on his armor, she would tear into a thousand pieces. It was foolish to feel that way, because he’d practiced being gentle with his claws, and had Longarm’s digits if it was a problem. Despite all his sound, logical arguments, it took several minutes of self-motivating before he finally moved her.

As he tilted her over so that she lay in the crook of his arm, she woke with an irritated noise. She stretched a tiny arm, which ended in claws like his own, and opened two optics, expectedly red, to glare at him. She looked so much like Megatron at that moment that Shockwave’s processor stalled.

He hadn’t known she was coming until after arriving on Cybertron and never said anything about it, fearful of Megatron calling off his mission; or worse, ordering him to terminate. His plan was to have her secretly, prove he could work just fine with her around, then tell his master. In hindsight it was an idiotic plan for multiple reasons, but right now, the biggest reason why he hated what he’d done was that Megatron would never know. He wouldn’t know that his most loyal servant kept a secret from him, and he wouldn’t know her.

Shockwave picked the bottle up and stuck it at her mouth the way he’d seen others do it. She latched on and sucked greedily, eyes narrowing in contentment. He was struck for a moment with an intense surreal feeling, like this was a dream and he was about to wake up.

It was impossible for Decepticons to have sparklings. Cybertronians needed to be on Cybertron to have healthy offspring due to some quirk of the biology or proximity to Vector Sigma or their sun’s radiation or something like that. It wasn’t Shockwave’s expertise. All he understood was that a _Decepticon_ , that _he_ , that he _and Megatron_ , had created the first Decepticon sparkling in four million years.

Cybertronian pregnancies were so long that Shockwave had graduated and climbed a decent way up Autobot Intelligence before he had to worry about it affecting him physically. He’d spun some story about the sire abandoning him during Autoboot camp and being so ashamed and frightened that he didn’t know how to talk about it, then convinced Blurr not to find the nonexistent bot to beat them up. For the rest of his term he had Blurr’s allyship and had no compunctions about leaning on someone he would likely kill in the future.

Despite his own reasoning, Shockwave wished he had Blurr’s, or anyone’s, companionship right now. He felt raw and vulnerable and needed someone close, occupying this moment alongside him. He wanted Megatron but that was pure fantasy now. For her sake, he had to be realistic and not dwell on past guilts.

When she drained the bottle empty, he set it aside. He practically crumpled around her, bowing his head, buckling his chest, and cradling her with both servos, delicately, lovingly. “It’s just us,” he said into her audial.

Her optics fluttered shut, his voice and the fuel lulling her back into stasis. “We’re on our own, little one,” he went on. “I’m sorry.”

The Autobots would be all too eager to help Longarm with his new baby, and knowing them, wouldn’t question the claws, which Shockwave couldn’t change until she was older. He was still in contact with Lugnut and Blitzwing, the two idiots who were trying to co-lead the Decepticons. Still he knew they were alone.

He’d spent so long holding back these feelings and he couldn’t deny them any longer. He was lonely, and guilty, and sad. He wanted to be held, he wanted to change the past, and he wanted to sleep. One of these things was available to him.

And in the morning, what would he do? He’d call up the doctor and rest a lot and have someone help him around the house while he recovered. He’d get to know his daughter and introduce her to Blurr and Cliffjumper, and Ultra Magnus, too, probably. He’d call up Blitzwing and share the news with the New Kaonites, who would no doubt throw a melancholy celebration involving plenty of rotgut oil. But what would he _do_?

What could he do right now?

“You need a name,” he crooned, touching a claw to her cheek. She cracked an optic at him.

Something about her suggested a flight alt mode—he didn’t know how he knew that, but he’d heard stories of carriers making such predictions and being accurate. She had an important pedigree and an uncertain but bright future. One day she might even help take Cybertron. Her name needed to carry a weight, it needed to sound as strong as she was going to be.

“What do you think of Neo Maxima?” It was flashy and presumptuous, not the sort of thing he would typically pick, but he was caught up in thoughts of her future and the name had a grand, leaderly vibe. It sounded like the strength and hope that came with any new beginning. The more he thought of it the more it grew on him. He wanted to believe in those things. He wanted to believe in her.

She beeped in response, turned her head towards his chest, and went into stasis. He lifted his legs, the energy from his fuel kicking in, and made himself comfortable on the other side of the berth to join her. Those simple movements exhausted him once more.

 _Everything will look better in the morning,_ he thought as he shut his optic. It would, he knew. Neo Maxima was fine, and he would be too, in time.

**Author's Note:**

> coming up with a name was like really hard for me and idek if Neo Maxima is a good one. hopefully it is. thank you for reading this admittedly kind of weird thing!


End file.
